


unmasked, sweetly unbroken

by karasunotsubasa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, Fluff, Honeymoon, I can't believe this is a tag, Love Confessions, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Masks, Regency Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Worried Victor Nikiforov, bamf yuuri katsuki, reassurance, smitten dorks in love, vitya gets in his head, yuuri is there to save the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: “Mr. Nikiforov. What a pleasure to see you here tonight. May I ask for a dance?” Yuuri offers Victor a hand, so poised and beautiful that Victor almost trips in his haste when he steps up to rest his own hand in Yuuri’s.“Of course,” he replies, aware of how hard his heart beats. Yuuri’s manner of speech has changed, and Victor can’t help but notice how this, and the tuxedo and the little cravat under Yuuri’s chin make him look like a true gentleman of a kind that Victor always swoons at in books. “I would be honoured, Mr. Katsuki.”
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 26
Kudos: 190
Collections: Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Skater 2019





	unmasked, sweetly unbroken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smolkristen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolkristen/gifts).



> to smolkristen,  
> I had a whole different idea for a fic for you (involving a poodle forum, prince vitya and supermodel yuuri, a hotel fire, paparazzi and freezing someone's butt out on a sidewalk in just a bathrobe while the other comes to a grand rescue to the clicking of cameras), but that one would have been another monster fic of pining and long overdrawn swooning sessions, so I chose to go with something shorter, yet equally as sweet. I hope you enjoy this, and that you had the best of times during this holiday. may the next year be as sweet and kind to you as yuuri is to victor in this fic!  
> with the best holiday wishes,  
> kat

With a mask on his face – a slick Gucci studded with crystals of purple and blue, and feathers that match – Victor steps into the ballroom of the hotel they have been staying at.

It has been transformed from what he remembers from this morning as a slightly bare, neglected dining hall. The tables have been pushed against the walls and the space at the front, where the buffet usually was, has been freed for a live orchestra. They play classic after classic, so that the pairs already dancing may seem even more resplendent in motion, and Victor pauses in the doorway, captivated for a moment.

The general reception of what he sees before him is much more positive than he imagined it would be. It has been Yuuri’s idea to come on this trip. He knows well that Victor is helpless when it comes to the sensibilities of what is most commonly known as the regency era, what with Victor’s choice in movies and books that he often indulges in with Yuuri playing games on his PSP right by his side. It should not have surprised Victor then that one day, Yuuri came to him and said:

“There is a themed trip that I want to take you on. Will you come?”

It shouldn’t surprise him, no. And yet, it still did. Victor said yes before he even knew what he was agreeing to, though. He trusted Yuuri then, and he trusts him now, even if this trip was nothing but a streak of failures and bad luck. From the moment of booking till tonight, they suffered the most horrible case of the proverb “Hell is paved with good intentions.” Their room was double booked, Victor’s wallet was stolen, Yuuri has lost his phone (which was turned into the hotel’s lost and found, but it still gave them quite a freight), and they got lost twice, only one of which was because they have been paying more attention to each other than their guide. 

Overall, it was not a trip to write home about, but after seeing the ballroom remade into something straight out of the regency era romance novel, Victor is willing to give it one more chance. Maybe tonight would make up for all the trouble. After all, if anything could make his heart beat faster, it would be a ball. A ball, a little reminder of that fateful Grand Prix Final banquet where Yuuri shook the foundation of Victor’s very being and ignited inside him the fire of love.

Victor looks around the room for his husband, since they agreed to meet here instead of their rooms, but among the masked people it’s difficult to know who is who. Everything glimmers, wherever he turns. The masks, the candles, the decorations. The women look all the more stunning in their gowns, stylized for those of an era passed, but with an added flair of the new chic. The men, like Victor, in tuxedos with long tails that almost trail after them like veils, and pristine white gloves on their hands, are equally as handsome to look at. 

As Victor rests his eyes over all of them, he feels the gazes turn his way as well. Women giggle as they pass him, and, as it was required of a gentleman back in the times when it mattered, Victor offers them a little bow. His lips quirk on their own and the women giggle louder, but none of them dares speak to him. He grins harder to himself, unable to deny how much fun this is turning out to be. Maybe, this trip was worth it, if only for a single night like this. 

He makes his way toward the tables, where champagne glasses climb up in a sizzling mountain of golden sparkles. Before he can take one and wait for Yuuri, his husband comes up to him. It’s him, Victor has no doubt about it. That hair, those sparkling, warm eyes, that half smile… Yuuri is stunning, even if his face is mostly covered by a mask that Victor himself has picked out for him, because it reminded him of Eros: made of black lace and diamonds almost woven into its sides.

Yuuri bows deep at the waist, and Victor bows back, unable to hide his smile. 

“Mr. Nikiforov. What a pleasure to see you here tonight. May I ask for a dance?” Yuuri offers Victor a hand, so poised and beautiful that Victor almost trips in his haste when he steps up to rest his own hand in Yuuri’s.

“Of course,” he replies, aware of how hard his heart beats. Yuuri’s manner of speech has changed, and Victor can’t help but notice how this, and the tuxedo and the little cravat under Yuuri’s chin make him look like a true gentleman of a kind that Victor always swoons at in books. “I would be honoured, Mr. Katsuki.”

“It’s Katsuki-Nikiforov, actually,” Yuuri corrects him. He peers at Victor from the side, a little playful curl around his mouth. “I have quite recently been married.”

“Why, what a happy occasion this is then! Are you here to celebrate?”

They come to stand among the dancing pairs and Yuuri’s arms come around Victor, Victor’s rest upon Yuuri’s shoulder, and without losing a breath, they move in union as they always have. No dance gives a challenge to them and soon, they step perfectly in tune with the other pairs. Victor can’t help but smile.

“Your husband must feel like a lucky man,” he tells Yuuri, who is so close that Victor can shamelessly rest his cheek against the side of his face. He resists the temptation, since it would be a great faux pas in polite society to show his affection that plainly.

“I am the lucky one,” Yuuri replies as he twirls them around. All Victor can see is him. The background blurs, the music stops in his ears, and Yuuri is the only thing that matters in the world. 

They continue to dance, so involved with each other that they don’t notice the passage of time. Song after song, they dance until sweat glistens on their skin. But even then, when Yuuri pulls Victor deep into his arms, or dips him low enough that Victor’s mask slips on his face, all he can see is Yuuri, haloed by the chandelier lights; even then Victor doesn’t want to stop. He wants this moment to last. He wants to engrave this happiness deep into his heart, so that he never forgets.

It feels like forever and no time at all, both at once, when they finally step away from the dance floor. There is a flush on Yuuri’s cheeks and bright joy in his twinkling eyes as he takes two flutes of champagne and hands one to Victor. 

“To my gorgeous husband,” he toasts, clinking his glass against Victor’s. 

“I can only drink to mine, I’m afraid,” Victor answers with a smile. He lifts his glass and adds: “But to him, and his health, and to the love we share so it may never wane.”

Yuuri’s half snort is drowned in his glass as he drinks his champagne in one go. Victor downs his own, still smiling. They leave their empty glasses on the table, Yuuri offers Victor his arm, which Victor happily accepts, and together they walk towards the door that leads to the back garden of the hotel. Many weddings take place here, so it is a picturesque scene, with finely trimmed trees and white cobbled paths, and especially for tonight – paper lanterns have been brought out to allow a soft, orange light to battle against the dark. 

The air is cool on Victor’s burning skin, and he wishes he could shirk off all the layers from his body, but it would not be proper for a gentleman to run about in only his underwear. For all his love of the era, he would not wish to truly live in those times. After all, if he had… would he and Yuuri still have met? Would they have still fallen in love? Would they be together, would that be possible?

“You’re thinking about something bad, aren’t you?” Yuuri asks all of a sudden, and it’s only when Victor opens his mouth to deny it that he realizes he has stopped walking and Yuuri paused as well when he felt the tug on his arm.

“It’s nothing,” Victor shakes his head. He steps close to Yuuri again and smiles. “It’s nothing that matters anyway. Just some silly wonderings that are neither here nor there. Let’s not ruin the night with it.”

Yuuri lifts his hand to brush some stray hair from Victor’s eyes. Even through the whit glove, his palm is warm where it brushes against Victor’s cheek. Gently, tenderly almost, Yuuri takes off Victor’s mask. As if he was being unravelled, Victor feels his worries, his stress and his annoyance leave him. There is only Yuuri and the light feeling of love, and then the touch of Yuuri’s hand on his face as he cradled Victor’s cheek.

“Tell me,” Yuuri pleads. 

And Victor can do nothing else. So he does: he shares his silly thoughts of how they would not have met if they lived in any other time, and how they may have not fallen in love because of it, and how lonely and sad Victor knows he would be without Yuuri to brighten his life.

“You sound like me,” Yuuri says once he’s done. He’s smiling a small smile that makes Victor feel loved and cared for.How strange love is, when one smile can make you feel all that, Victor thinks. “You sound like me when my mind gets the better of me. What do you tell me then, Vitya? What do you say when I begin to worry about things I have no control over?”

Before Victor can answer, Yuuri tells him. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you feel, whatever burdens you bear on your shoulders, I want to be here to take half of them and support you. Nothing you say is stupid, nothing is silly. I love you, and I want to be your strength when you feel weak, and to be the person you can feel comfortable and honest with, because no matter what, I want to stay by your side for as long as you want me.”

Through the tears that gather in Victor’s eyes and the tightened with emotion throat, Victor whimpers: “It’s unfair, Yuuri. You can’t use my words against me like this.”

“Can’t I?” Yuuri answers with a little spark in his eye. He gently strokes Victor’s face, rubs his gloved thumb on Victor’s jaw. “I can, and I just did. Now, tell me, why would we not have met if we lived in a regency era? Why would we not have fallen in love? I don’t believe it possible. It feels… it feels like I have always loved you and like I would love you no matter what life we lead. Don’t you believe it, too?”

“I want to,” Victor answers, taking hold of Yuuri’s hand so he can press his cheek to his palm, rest his heart in it, too. “But how would we have met, Yuuri? If you didn’t get drunk and half undressed, and then danced with me…”

“And who’s to say I wouldn’t have done that?”

Yuuri’s eyes gleam with challenge and Victor can’t help but laugh at it wetly. 

“I would love you from afar,” Yuuri says to him. He steps as close to Victor as possible, and every rise and fall of their chests makes them brush against each other. “I would love you from afar, like I’ve done for all these years. I would admire you, and love you, and yearn for you, knowing it’s impossible for me to ever come close to you. Maybe we would be lords, and maybe we would meet at a horse race, or maybe a ball just like this one. And I would watch you from a corner of the room, drinking and thinking it impossible to have even a second of your attention directed at me.” 

Yuuri smiles. 

“But something would happen, maybe Yurio would come to challenge me again. Or maybe Chris. But something would make my drunken heart beat harder and I would come out of my hiding place and step into the light, where you would be waiting for someone to rip apart the boredom of your life, and I would take your hand and spin you around, and we would dance like we danced tonight. And everything would happen just the same, just like us, because I can’t believe that I would love you less in any other life.”

“Yuuri...” is all Victor can say. 

He may be the one who loves regency era, but Yuuri is the true embodiment of it – kind, lovely, but at times daring and fearless. The tears roll down Victor’s cheeks now, fat and filled with love for this man who has painted such a beautiful picture of eternal love in front of him. 

“Do you believe this would happen, Vitya? Do you want to believe it?”

“No,” Victor finally finds his own heart and shakes his head. “No, I don’t just believe it. I _know_ it would happen. You’re right. I can’t imagine not loving you in any of the lives I’ve lead or will lead from now on.”

Gently, he pulls Yuuri’s hand away from his cheek, takes the hem of his glove, and asks: “May I?”

Yuuri nods. Victor pulls off his glove. The orange lights of the lanterns gleam off the golden wedding band on Yuuri’s finger. It’s the same ring that Yuuri has given Victor all these months ago in Barcelona. They have chosen to keep the rings and, on their wedding day, trade them before the altar. 

Tonight, Victor brings Yuuri’s hand to his lips and rests a kiss against the cold gold, then against the warmth of Yuuri’s palm. 

“I would marry you again, if I could,” Victor whispers against Yuuri’s skin. 

Yuuri laughs, but his laughter softens into a tender smile when Victor looks up at him. “One day, we will have another wedding. In another life, in another world. One where we both love each other equally as much as we do here and now.”

Victor nods to him then, at peace with this promise, and when Yuuri pulls him down those few inches that separate them, tugging at Victor’s collar with his free hand, Victor goes willingly. The diamonds on Yuuri’s mask bite into his nose and cheeks, but Victor cares little for their scratches. Yuuri’s soft lips touch his, and the next moment all else is forgotten. 

Maybe, after all, this trip was not as terrible as Victor thought. As long as he can be with Yuuri, no trip, no life, _nothing_ will be a waste of time. That much he knows for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed this, and happy holidays!!


End file.
